You Can't Take Me
by Bardicsidhe
Summary: He wasn’t running away from anything. He was just tired to the bones.


Title: You Can't Take Me

Author: Scylla the Healer

Rating: PG for language

Summary: Tristan deals with the aftermath. One of my most admired fanfiction authors does more character pieces than pairing fics, and I thought I'd borrow the idea and try some of my own. The end…I leave to you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! And once Honda's done being a self-pitying prat, I'm giving him back.

-~-

            The engine roared, and Honda's eyes narrowed over the handlebars. He and his machines were always one, and maybe they teased him about it, but damn them, this was _his _night. Rain was threatening to fall. Rain was _always _threatening to fall, especially lately. It was spring. If it _wasn't_ drowning his ass, it was drowning his bike. But he didn't care.

            _You can't take me._

He wasn't running away from anything. He was just tired to the bones. Pharaohs and whackjobs and a stupid card game that seemed to mean _everything_. Who was writing this shit? It was like a bad movie. A really bad fantasy-horror flick that he wouldn't shell out the bucks to see from looking at the _poster_. It ruined his _real _life. Turned it inside out. He'd missed so much school that his parents were going to kill him when they finally saw his report cards. Now he was back in Domino, with a lot more bad memories galloping around inside his head than he would have liked. And he'd formed an unshakable bond with his motorcycle, because unlike every other thing in Domino City, _this _was normal. Well…normal for him. It wouldn't change underneath him and turn into something nasty. It wouldn't take over his mind, although he did occasionally obsess over it. It couldn't do anything other than come to life when he turned the key, stop when he touched the brakes, and turn when he swiveled the handlebars.

            In the middle of this crazy-ass world, his bike was sanity itself. So here he was again, losing his _own _sanity on the back of slick fiberglass two-wheeled sex, pushing rain into his face and down the collar of his jacket and into his shoes. He didn't want anything to do with the rest of the world anymore. Half of the reason was that he couldn't even look at his own friends. They'd shared too much – they'd seen one another's innermost souls.

            The other half was that he was terrified that somehow, Jou would rope him into yet another bizarre trip with Yugi. Where was the next tournament? Brazil? The middle of a desert? The Congo?

            It was too much. They'd been dragging him along, down into their madness for too long now. It wasn't going to happen anymore.

            _You can't take me_.

            He slowed down, headlight scissoring through the darkness and the ever-increasing downpour. Despite the helmet protecting his head, it really wasn't safe to be out here alone on the road. Was there a service station ahead? A rest area? Maybe he could drag his bike up underneath the shelter's roof until the rain was bearable again.

            Orange recreational department lights loomed ahead – cutting through the blades of rain. God, it was really pissing down, wasn't it? He waited until he caught sight of the orange mist bouncing off of the poorly-shingled roof of a shelterhouse, up a turnoff ramp from the main highway. He aimed for the turnout, felt the front wheel of the bike buck up and knew he'd found it, and rode the incline to the temporary shelter. With a minimum of puffing, he yanked the bike up onto the concrete slab poured underneath the wooden roof and its support poles and parked it next to a sadly abused picnic table. It creaked and tilted dangerously on loose bolts as Honda sat down on the deeply etched bench. He and his bike left damp puddles on the pavement. The night was dark beyond his sheltering roof, dark and starless but for the yellow-orange haze of the security lights fogging across the grass as the rain bounced up. It hissed in his ears, interrupted only by the occasional whine of a passing car. Oh, listen, somebody's tranny's shot. Somebody else was misfiring. Spark plug wiring's shorting out. Shit, didn't _that _one sound hot…?

            What was he doing out here? Honda listened to the occasional cars and the whisper of rain and couldn't help but wonder. Then, overhead, the first flash of lightning seamed the night sky and thunder bellowed in its wake. He knew he shouldn't be out here. He should be home; sprawled in his socks and a tee shirt on his bed, trying desperately to catch up on all the crap he'd missed. Not running away.

            _I'm _not _running away, goddammit!_

            His fist collided passionately with the picnic table, right on the heart with "C-jay + F.T." engraved into it and inlaid with dirt. What was there to be afraid of? Everybody preached about less stress. Well…playing a part in a live version of _Invasion of the Body Snatchers _rated kind of high on the stress levels. Spending a chunk of his life – however small – as a robotic monkey. That was pretty stressful too. Honda was just making things simple. Take out the people the stress. Ditch the people who made life hard.

            But could he really ditch his mom and dad and his brother?

            _I'll send them letters. I'll call. Maybe I'll come back and visit once in a while._

            He was only eighteen. Where the hell did he expect to go?

            _I'll manage somehow. I'm tough._

            How could he just leave Jonouchi behind? His buddy? His best friend since middle school? More. More than that. Jou really honestly needed him. The blonde was tough, but he needed a partner or a sidekick. No…maybe not a sidekick. But he needed somebody to watch his back, and somebody to listen to him when he raved. Honda could do that, which was a hell of a lot more than his family ever asked of him.

            And what about Bakura? The poor guy had to deal with so much. They were alike in so many ways. Bakura had been Yugi's friend, and Jonouchi had been Honda's. Before Yugi and Jou turned into best friends and shoved everyone else to the sidelines, Honda and Bakura had barely been acquaintances. Little guys like Bakura just didn't hang out with people like Tristan and Jonouchi. That was a quick way to end up on the wrong end of a beating. But when the others were busy plotting their game plans and sorting their cards and talking about how much they were going to sacrifice for their loved ones…well…the rest of the team found things to talk about, too. There was another person inside of Bakura, and Honda wasn't just thinking about the spirit of his ring. He wanted to make sure that nobody hurt that kid ever again. He couldn't if he was gone…

            And then there was Shizuka. Honda slid his hands through his hair in frustration just thinking about her. She had so much strength – she was one of those rare people who were so strong and still underestimated so easily. He really cared about her. She would never forgive him if he ran away, would she? Shizuka wasn't the kind of girl to be kind to cowards. 

            _But I'm not being a coward…I'm just tired…_

The others slid by his thoughts, a memory at a time. Mai – more than anything, he just wanted a chance to be close to her, and make sure that things between Jonouchi and Mai worked out. God knew his best friend was a royal idiot when it came to women. If Jou blew this chance, would he ever get another one? Who was going to translate Jou-speak for Mai if Honda wasn't there?

            Yugi and Yami – one demanded loyalty, and the other earned it through so much pain. They were still mostly strangers to him, but could he just leave them to deal by themselves? _They won't miss me, they've got Jou._

_            But Jou screws up more often than I do._

            Furthermore, there was Otogi. Honda's lips pulled back from his teeth in a grimace just _thinking _about Otogi. That ponytailed prick was going to win if he left! He wanted to beat Otogi at something more than Jou wanted to kick Kaiba's ass. More than anything, he just wanted to _prove _to that arrogant bastard that he was just as good as he was. Whenever they were together, Honda always felt awkward, ill-at-ease, and that pissed him off. He watched Otogi's every little movement when he was with Shizuka, watching for a sign of affection that hadn't been there before. And if he ran away, well…

_            I'm _not _running away, goddammit!_

…he might as well kiss his chances goodbye. He'd come back home and find out they were a couple, and that _really _pissed him off.

            The rain was dying, slowing from angry lightning flashes to the kitten-soft patter of mist. When it stopped…when it stopped…he'd decide which way he was going. Which exit? Left or right? Left would take him back the way he'd come. Right…right would take him in the other direction, as simply as that. It was getting really cold, and Honda cuddled his jacket closer with a grumble. As soon as this damn rain was over, he'd make his decision. Until then, he was just going to stay pissed off.

            Until someone else's single headlight glowed up the incline to the shelterhouse and the rest stop, and a red-and-white Yamaha glowed orange under the buzzing security lights. Honda knew who it was, even before they'd shaken their hair free of the confining helmet. Droplets shimmered everywhere, orange, and he caught his breath. The wide, familiar eyes locked onto his, and Honda knew that he'd been followed, and that the red-and-white Yamaha had probably been on his tail from the beginning.

            He steeled himself for a fight.

            "Honda…?"

_~owari~_


End file.
